Time Around the Estancia

I feel clean and relaxed as Jackson and I have checked into our first hostel in about a month. We have spent the better part of the month hitchhiking, volunteering and working our way North through Argentina.

I'll start with our time at Estancia Santa Thelma.  We chose to volunteer (with WOOFing) at a sheep ranch in Santa Cruz, the most southern province of Argentina.This choice satisfying the small part of our egos that thought we could be gauchos if only given the chance. We had a rough time hitchhiking there, moving at a rate of about 200km per day and camping for free on the side of the road. From our last ride, from a Brazilian truck, we walked a few kilometers over barren land towards the estancia.
When we spotted the Estancia, it looked like a green oasis in a small valley. We cautiously walked in and found the gaucho, named Candido.

Candido is a small, weather beaten, solitary 64 year old gaucho. He lives on the estancia year round in a small house with a wood stove. Candido had lived on a farm since he was young, skinning sheep since he was 12. We later learned he was hired on good reputation from the nearby village. Candido does not drink alcohol, a pitfall for many other gauchos.
At the estancia, we always had the company of many animals. There were 8 sheep dogs, including one puppy Candido had found alone in the plains in the winter. Also a few lambs, turkeys and horses always made up our community.
Candido had no work with us until the owners arrived. We watched him do his tasks for the first two days, including herded and slaughtering one sheep for us to eat. He seemed indifferent too our presence and happy to have us at his meal times. Every meal we ate sheep in some form.

When the owners Marc-Antionne and Paulina arrived, we were put to work. Marc has owned the Estancia for 5 years and is living his dream as a cowboy. Paulina, 15 years younger, has been coming for 3 years.
We ate meals with this couple, but they only would speak French at the table. Jackson understood more than me and I only would respond in Spanish.
We dug ditches and built dams for 5 days in order to create an irrigation system. Other Woofers came and went and generally were all first language French.  This is where the experience went south for me. I didn't mind the work, but the meal times I never enjoyed. We never ate our fill and the conservation was always French. I would say very little and the meals became a sore spot for me. Without enjoyment of the meals, the days had very little to offer.
The reward was the small view on how life would be in Southern Patagonia. Not for us but for the gauchos and people making a living off the land. At one point, 2 months of planting crops was lost in a week to a small plague of grasshoppers. There are birds that would peck the eyes of the sheep out. Also a rough winter had been hard on many ranches in the area.
Two men and two boys came for lambs one morning. Candido had herded about 100 sheep the night before. They selected, dragged, washed, killed and skinned 20 lambs before 9:00 a.m. 

One evening, Jackson went for a horse ride after much pressuring of our hosts. He was kicked by a horse the next day. He was lucky to take the hit in the thigh but could barely walk for a few days. I continued with cement work while we waited for a day off. When we were to be moved to a different Estancia, with no animals, to fix fences for an indefinite period of time,  we decided it was time to leave.
We had no food for the road and had not had a day off to buy any. Paulina gave use crackers, pasta, sauce and cheese to get us to the next village and Marc gave us a ride to the Ruta 40.

The following afternoon would be the worst hitchhiking we would endure. We were dropped on the side of the Ruta 40 into what quickly developed into a sandstorm. The winds made it nearly impossible to walk and we pelleted with sand and small rock. We sat, faces and bodies covered, for 5 hours without any luck. During this storm, I thought mainly of all the different stages of the trip so far. They seem to stretch in front of me like a reel of film. To the left, experiences and places we have been. To the right, the trip and times to come. The present environment was right in front of us, but it only one scene in our continuum.

A truck stopped with 3 Americans in the back. The 3 would not make room for us and said the back was full. More on those Yankees later. The ride we did get was at best a mixed blessing. It was a large truck and the seats available to us were on top, facing forward into the wind. So we started down the road, not only did strong winds blow at us, but we were traveling 100 km per hour with no cover. The ride lasted for 30 min at which point the truck pulled into an estancia. We asked to be let off but they waved us off. All truck occupants exited the truck and went into a house at this new estancia. Jackson and I disembarqued, both half ruined from the ride and laughed about our unexpected situation. I went to the house only to realize I was interrupting a mate break. 15 minutes later we were on the road in the exact same position.

Our day and night was saved by an Italian couple on their honeymoon. Jennifer and Alejandro picked us up, fed us instantly and later that night bought us beer and dinner. A gift from fortunate travelers to unfortunate Jackson and I. That was a beautiful scene.